Bad Moon Rising

Ian Blum

A shadowy figure lurks through the darkness. Nameless, faceless, he walks a path that others dare not tread. Feeding on small rodents, birds, insects, anything he can sink his teeth into. He revels in the warmth, the sweet metallic tang of blood and flesh. It is his only source of joy, and yet it is all he needs. It provides the entertainment, the sustenance, the only wordly contact he craves.

He walks alone, but he does not feel alone in this big and scary world. This is his life, this is how he chooses to live it.


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